People Let Me Tell Ya 'Bout My Best Friend

Twenty-Seven Years ago this week, my wife and I went to a Ward Halloween party dressed as nerds. I don't remember if we won the final prize for best costume but I do remember that we placed high in the competition. The reason my mind is a little foggy on the details is that, on the way home, Kerry went into labor and we went to Katy Hospital so that we could witness the birth of our first born son...dressed as nerds.

I was later to find out that this auspicious start in life was a harbinger of things to come as we were to watch our son win accolades and honors and...basically show us that we were now the older generation and...well....nerds.

Those few precious moments immediately after his arrival into this world are, I believe, one of the most sacred moments of my life. I still remember the look on my wife's face as they placed that beautiful squalling mass of multi-colored goo on her chest. She spoke his name and he immediately stopped crying; then she smiled. It was a smile that I'd never seen before or since. It was radiant, serene, God-like...it was a smile that radiated love in the purest sense of the word and it is the smile that is engraved into the deepest recesses of my heart...the smile that adorns her face whenever I picture her in my mind's eye.

I knew in that moment that I had ceased to be the center of her world...and, strangely, that's exactly how I wanted it to be.

They asked my to cut the umbilical chord and, after a few moments of squeamish hesitation, I did. That was also a kind of harbinger of things to come...as I was to learn that my role of father would entail sometimes placing myself between my wife and our son and, while secretly siding with her, making her loosen her grip so that he could learn to fall on his face and make his own mistakes in life.

Then they handed my first-born son to me so that I could give him a bath. As I concentrated on not dropping what was, paradoxically the slipperiest and the most precious thing I had ever held, I set him into the warm water and bathed his tiny face and body. One of the nurses giggled, "Look!". I looked down and saw that, as I was busy bathing my son, he was busy peeing all over me.

Also...a harbinger of things to come.

The salad days of a young family are, I believe, the most magical time of a union between a husband and a wife. That little bundle we held and fed and (she) changed represented a concentration of our combined purpose in life. To this day, when I see a picture of our first born infant, I realize that I did not cherish it enough. That I did not savor those moments enough...We concentrated all we had on pouring as much love and attention on our son as we could and yet, I can't think of anything I wouldn't give for the opportunity to go back in time and do more.

I didn't write this blog to sing his praises...anyone that knows John-Ross knows that he is gifted, talented, and (as they say in Boston) 'wicked smaht'

As he has grown into adulthood, we have had occasion to debate and argue and learn from one another. Politically, there are things on which we both agree and disagree. Political debates are among my favorite things and I've never debated anyone whose opinion I respect more than my son.

There are a lot of reasons that I love my wife. If I were pressed to name the number one reason why I love her, I don't think I'd be able to do it.

But high in the running would be the fact that, twenty-seven years ago, she introduced me to one of my best friends.